


Enter Another Morning

by Livrin



Category: Alice Nine, Jrock, the GazettE
Genre: AU, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:11:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livrin/pseuds/Livrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two guys, one reality, one moment.</p><p> </p><p>Written to the prompt : <i>Shou/Uruha -- 'Hey... are you still awake?'</i></p><p>A/N: Probably best to read it while listening to <a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?mr849qce9l30q0f">Quiet</a> by This Will Destroy You.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enter Another Morning

 

A bar of chocolate, half bitten and half opened, in one hand. Just two months past its expiration date.

A glass of stale lukewarm water with strong scent of a mix between metal and soil on another hand.

Shou dodged a piece of dangling ceiling tile familiarly and climbed the small wooden staircase at the far corner.

"Hey," he greeted the other man currently lounging on the bed that was pushed right next to a large circular window. The only one source of natural lighting in the room.

Uruha turned his head and greeted back, one elbow resting on the half varnished frame of the window, old grey blanket covered his feet up to his waist. "Seems our friendly pet rodent's less energetic the past few days," he made a pointing gesture toward the ceiling.

Shou took a sip from his glass, wincing, and answered distractedly, "I noticed. Probably caught itself on one of the loose wiring around here."

"That. Or it snacked on a bad batch of food," Uruha said, tone relaxed but directing a pointed stare at the half finished chocolate in Shou's hand.

Shou slowed his chewing down, sound of crinkling wrapping paper filled the air. Then he nodded and made to sit down on the bed next to Uruha, "I'll go and check it later. Hopefully just a bad construction accident or at least it won't choose to die by the water tank. That stuff reeks," he frowned, not looking forward to the possibility.

Uruha laughed easily and nudged his shoulder, "Well, I wouldn't know that."

"Lucky you."

"Hmm, always," Uruha mumbled contentedly while scooting closer to rest his back halfway on Shou's chest.

Shou's fingers stilled on their activity of shifting through Uruha's blond locks hearing those words, then resumed stutteredly while Shou mused on Uruha's ability to pack a sucker punch or two without meaning it with his honest, laid back manner. It used to be a refreshing and attractive quality point that repeatedly drew Shou in to his personality. Now, with the recent turn of their living condition, it was all that, plus new unavoidable emotional landmines scattered here and there, each and every new day. And you can't get mad at someone who didn't even mean it in the first place.

Sound of the building's old structure settling in mixed with the occasional soft whisper of the wind slipping in from hastily patched up holes on the rickety ceiling filled the silence. No birds' chirps, no traffic's commotion. If Shou closed his eyes he could pretend they were on some remote village, just few hours before the sunrise. Peaceful and slow-paced day to day living.

"Mock me all you want, but, this is how I've always imagined it to be. The two of us," Uruha said. Shou glanced down and noticed how the other guy have settled more comfortably on his chest. Head tilted a little to the side, right cheek brushing the fabric of Shou's shirt. Eyes closed and lips parted slightly, a bad breathing habit that Shou can never break him out of.

"Ah, have you been re-reading on that _'Little House on the Prairie'_ book again?" Shou replied, tone gently teasing.

"It's either that or the washing machine manual instruction."

"I see. I'll get you something this afternoon then."

"Mm."

"Quite comfortable there, aren't you?"

Uruha's eyes lifted open halfway, slowly, and then fluttered closed again. One side of his mouth curved upward in a playful smile, a soft echo to his usual vibrant laughter. It was not really fair how insignificant things like that can make Shou's heart flapped pathetically on its hinges, like its ventricles have been overworked squeezing and pumping too much blood through it.

"You feel good," Uruha mumbled, one finger made a tapping motion on an arm Shou has draped across his abdomen.

"Yes."

"A little bony, but that can't be help."

"Yes."

"Speaking as a man to another man: you're a good guy."

"Yes."

"Honorable but slightly pathetic sometimes."

"Hm."

"Still. A good man, nonetheless."

"Likewise."

"Only likewise?"

"A venerable upstanding gentleman, then?"

"Hm, that's more like it."

"Yes."

"That 'yes' of yours sounds more and more patronizing, rather than agreeing, really."

Shou laughed and tightened briefly the hold of his hands around the other's body. Jostling Uruha slightly and prompted a half-hearted protest from him.

"All in all, it's been a good time, don't you think?"

"Tricky question. If I answered that, you might accuse me of being patronizing again."

A weak yet well aimed elbowing on his ribs was the reply Shou got in return.

Laying his head back against the headboard, familiar scent surrounding him, Shou closed his eyes, mind flashing back to time's gone past, of things had been and what could have been. The here and now and possible future not yet to see. It was Uruha's job to bet on the future with his optimism, these days Shou was more like recreational gambler, playing it safe. He bet only on the present, that was to say, he didn't put his chips on things he can't touch and see. On things lay just on the edge and beyond that horizon. Things were hard enough for them to deal with on a daily basis without worrying the thought of various possibilities outside the safe zone.

A sudden loud crash from the ceiling startled Shou out of his musing. A few seconds later a squeak followed by rapid clicking and scratching of small clawed feet ran across the apartment's ceiling were heard.

"Ah, guess our pet rodent's sill alive and kicking there," Shou intoned and nudged Uruha's head gently with his chin. "Hey...are you still awake?"

In another time he'll bow and call him _'Uruha-senpai'_ when they pass each other in the hallway of a music company.

In another time he'll stand in a long line formed on each side of a pathway, thunderous applause in the air, saying _'otsukaresama_ ' to Uruha just as the other guy walked out of that bright gigawatt-lit stage.

In another time he'll be sitting alongside Uruha in a wine bar, attention diligently focused on long tapered fingers swirling a wine glass and its content, low languid voice attentively explaining all about what Shou needed and needed not to know about nature of wine's legs.

This was not one of those time and place.

In this time and place Shou systematically noticed things in a painfully one, two, three order. In this time Shou quietly laid down Uruha on the bed. Slowly pulling a small gadget out of the creaky bedside table and plugging it into a discreetly hidden socket at the nape of the other guy. Watching number percentages flashed on the synthetic glass orbs of his empty eyes and disengaged it when it indicated _'100%'._

In this time, Shou lost his chips in the stilling of a previously tapping finger. In the stagnation of a thin chest from its usual heaving motion. 

Shou stood on the wet sidewalk in a broad daylight. Debris of abandoned cars on the street, ransacked stores, and pungent smell of cat's piss surrounded him. A set of key to the basement of an apartment building weighed down and cold inside his camo fatigue pants' pocket. The suffocating dead silence in the air an invisible force setting off his fight-or-flight basic instinct.

He heard there were several survivors three next towns over. At least that was what he got out of the emergency broadcast he heard before the old dual band radio he had sputtered and broken down on him few months ago. It might be a trap. He might be too late. But with the last attachment he ever had in his live gone away, it felt like it was finally the time to venture outside the city. Either make it or break it. It seemed he'll have to turn into a full time gambler after all.

Who knew, they might be able to restart the civilization once again. And if, in the future, quiet and peaceful time of a distant future, one of them would be able to develop energy method that could jump-start the small battery pack in his bag, then maybe he'll have another chance to re-transplant the memory chip rested within fold of old clothes alongside it.

Shou started his journey and tried not to think about average coefficient of shelf life, decomposition rate on nano-technology, and the span of human lives.

 

 


End file.
